Unbound
by FancyLadySnackCakes
Summary: What if the Arishok did not deal the final blow to the Mage Hawke during the end of Act II. Instead it ends with chains and imprisonment. Arishok/FHawke.


Another kmeme prompt. Would have just left it on there but figured there is so little Arishok that I might as well post it on here - especially if there are people that don't follow the meme.

Anyways enjoy ye'all Qunari fans.

Don't own Dragon Age...

* * *

><p>Everyone there had seen the last blow...with mouths tight and eyes wide. Nobles, priests and the like watched as their only stand against the fall of Kirkwall stumbled back in an array of black splattered blood.<p>

Serah Hawke had not given up without a fight. Firballs had reigned down from the ceilings - to burst above the Arishok's horns. Lighting stormed hailed down, hexes were cast and bright candescent flares were shot at such speed that everyone turned their heads - shielding their eyes - as the fight continued...but now...now it was over. The young mage lay in a pool of her own blood; leaking out in a final defeat as the Arishok stepped up to his victory.

It was silent; so quite that the sounds of the mage's lingering breaths sputtered over the heavy footfalls of the Arishok; burns and bruises being the only mark on him.

No one would have ever seen him smile again after that - his frown and blades would become a frequent terror to all of Kirkwall - for the Qunari had taken Kirkwall that night, and not even the Maker could save them now.

The killings began again and the weaker citizens fell under the Qunari steel - the rest converted...some willingly and others with hate in their eyes. All hope had been lost with the last tripping step of Serah Hawke...her death had been mourned...but times permitted that their tears be held back. The Dragon Age in Kirkwall took a back-step to the Qunari's rule.

Those in audience had seen the life under the mage's skin die out...

...so it was a surprised to many when the rumors of the Arishok's new 'human' adornment had spread like wild fire - it had started at the markets of Hightown and slowly trickled down to even the sewers below Darktown. By the end of the first month under the Qunari's reign everyone had heard of at least two accounts of the story. By the second month there were nobles lining up with well-thoughtout problems for the Arishok, only a few ever were allowed an audience with him, but the stories they told once back on the streets were immediately dismissed as folly. No one believed that Serah Hawke - the one who half of the city saw fall to the Arishok's blades - was now forever a silent and blind statue at his side. Those who had the chance to see her told of the thick heavy chain that hung down around her weary shoulders; knotting down between her strapped breasts before curling around the Arishok's tight hand.

After three months - whatever sympathy the people of Kirkwall had had for mages and magic was squished when note of the mage's outburst traveled through the streets. This outburst had ended in eight deaths: two not directly by her hands but because of her...that much was certain. These eight merchants had little else to say after speaking about opening trade out of the Wounded coast for a better dock side when the new Qunari ships would land in a weeks time, but even after the Arishok agreed to...'think'...about it - they didn't leave without one turning an agreeance to the Arishok about his new...'pet'.

Someone would tell the story; saying that at this point the Arishok's lip lifted in a smirk before his fist uncurled around her chain and the chaos began.

The bodies of the merchants had been thrown to sea; burnt-charred bodies with the eyes melted out.

People then may have thought the Arishok too intrigued by his new powerful Saarabas; so much so that some kept their meetings with the man short, for fear of him relaxing that hand around her chain once again.

There'd been some rumor at the hanged man that her ownership was a ploy to remind them all of that night when their 'freedoms' fell...others (the more drunken sods) said that the Arishok had needs just like the rest of them, and what better way to relieve them than with a powerful mage chained for his any and every whim. No doubt the men - with drinks brimming in their hands - said Hawke wouldn't have given up anything willingly...unless of course she enjoyed it. This trail of conversation led to two disappearances after a lone Qunari caught wind of the topic. Despite the strength in numbers the Qunari had on the remaining citizens - it didn't stop from the rumors getting out of hand, until one day even the Arishok caught on to it all.

Hawke at his side remained straight and tall when he'd craned his head to her. She heard the announced rumors from the Sten as well - for she could still hear...and even feel the Arishok's eyes on her. As he stared - it had been the first time she'd anticipated someone's thoughts so fluently. The Arishok spoke to her many times since she'd been nursed back to health, only to awaken bound and stitched. Rarely did she bother to speak past the strands binding her lips loosely together, but when she did she'd meant what she said.

Who knew what had been allotted to other Saarabas...but she knew regardless she was privileged by the Arishok on...certain situations. She'd never been alone since that night, but not every second had been completely uncomfortable (and not every second had been with him). The Arishok had shown respect in many ways...but nothing as the rumors suggested - the thought had never crossed her mind until now, and with many moments with only her thoughts to pass the time - she found that the small suggestion had ignited a tide of loose thoughts.

The stone mask hid her expression; a good thing now that her lips quirked in amusement at the Arishok's annoyed breath when the last informant was shut out the Keep. The sound of the chain clinking in his hand had her preparing to move, and as soon as the pull around her chest and shoulders began - she was moving as he sheperd her to the 'Viscount's' (now the Arishok's) quarters.

Rarely was she allowed out of his sight. Even bathing had been done with him keeping one eye on her...which - over time - lead to a strange sense of freedom from shame.

Hawke (despite coined the new name Saarabas) enjoyed the way the Arishok spoke her title as the feel of the thick chain was slowly removed; even savored the feel of the weight lifted from her head and the light as it blinded her eyes. Her baths were the only thing she enjoyed now...aside from her weekly visit from her 'tending' Ashaad. At least the Arishok kept her as comforted as any matched rival could be.

Escape had been tried twice, and failed just as many times. The second time she'd agreed would be the last, but already - as the bath water licked around her waist - she felt another plan brewing.

The Arishok watched her as she sank into the water; eyes always more distasteful than neutral. Times like these - while he glared as she washed her shoulders and neck - that she wondered if having her chained hadn't been his first thought when she stumbled into the compound with her staff at her back.

Slavery had worn on her, but half of it was a facade. Soon she'd find a break in his gaze, or a rust in the chain...then it would be havoc for them all...but especially for the Arishok.

The silence fell on them easily. Even with her sight back momentarily she refused to look at him - in fact it had been since the moment he'd healed her that she decided his face was not worth her looking upon...she saw him well enough in her mind anyways.

The water was hot and smooth; slippery as she rubbed her skin together. Night had fallen and she could hear him polishing his armor; could imagine him working on the grooves as her head dipped back around the lip of the tub.

As she lay - basking in the wet heat - she wondered to the Ashaad. His visit was soon - in fact...it was tonight if she wasn't mistaken. The thought of his warm hands around her had a faint smile plucking at her lips. Sometimes she even imagined he enjoyed raking his claws down her stomach as he worked her body loose and lax.

Since before the chains she'd assumed her sexual appetite had been an individual trait. Bethany...when she'd been alive... had never had relations with men - so to think it had been a mage issue wasn't even entertained According to the Qunari though - mages needed an outlet for their tensions...or certain things beyond their control ended up being unleashed upon 'innocent' parties. This understanding had made sense...oddly enough...and quickly she got used to the system they had for her particular sort of 'stress relief'.

The process hadn't been enjoyable at first; a guilty sort of thing and her body had refused to find release until hours later when the sweat sealed her body in a perpetual heat. The Qunari never joined her in release, but indeed he'd been inside her countless of times by now.

Being strapped to a bed, blind folded and lips sealed had not been her first choice of a mood-setter either...but after the second time the Ashaad's thick tongue and thick member had been the only thing to look forward to. Sometimes it was easy - with the darkness - to imagine it was a naughty templar, or Anders...even the Arishok when she was feeling so bold.

Suddenly her cheeks tingled as much as the slit between her legs - just the thought of the Arishok doing such things was as funny as it was appealing.

Hawke laughed softly, gripping the rim of the tub as she pushed her face into the cooler side of the tub. She could hear the Arishok turn to her direction; release an aggravated noise and begin his regular habit of sharpening his blades. All in all he ignored her insane bout of humor, even as she gave another breathy laugh a minute later, followed by a wry question, "When is it, you think, that my bed-cap will be here? As a tense mage...you know that I may explode without his skills.."

Her ears burned when he let out something between a snort and a hateful chuckle. "You are more insatiable than normal Saarebas Hawke...did you enjoy the rumors your fellow Bas claim as true?", his tone was droll, as if the whole topic did nothing but bore and disgust him...which surly it must have.

"No more than you do. I'd rather be left in this bath to bloat than have your hands touch me so intimately.", she countered quickly; eyes moving swiftly to her naked body distorting under the water. Her body - however - was saying the opposite.

He ignored her insult it seemed, "Your release will come as usual...", he said before the sharp sound of stone on metal filled the heated room.

Something about his tone in combination with the knowledge that today brought had her anger bubbling the water around her skin; fizzing like acid. The sound had the Arishok standing in preparation to quell the magic but she stood as he approached, "I'm done.", she said without looking at him. A downy cloth was draped over her shoulder, and she took it as she always did; drying herself as her eyes stared at a desk of ornaments and books.

When she was dry a blanket was draped over her - it was as he always did before leading her to an unmentioned room before she was bound, blind folded and splayed, but knowing her tension would ebb by warm heavy hands made the humiliating trek worth the while.

A hand on the back of her neck squeezed as she was pressed towards another direction - her feet nearly tripping at the abruptness. The pressure in her head increased when a stray finger slipped around to dig against the front of her throat in warning.

Hawke could hear the Arishok's breathing...the heat and the change around her as they stepped into the room where she'd been taken to many a times was comforting. The smell in here had grown into a sweet musk over the months that had the fine hairs on her arms standing at attention - the smell bringing back memories of rough bouts of sex...slow bouts and short intervals of cunninlingus, mixed with heavy pets and gropes.

Again - as always - she was pressed face first down on the hard bed by the Arishok's steady hands - the blanket removed without warning and an abrasive slip of cloth tied tightly around her head to blind her. Her wrists were bound by the bedposts but the rest of her was left free to move...or more appropriately - to be moved freely.

It never failed to amuse her - especially now - how little she cared that her bare rear and excited sex was exposed so openly to the Arishok...he'd be leaving soon anyhow...as soon as her Ashaad came to tend to her.

The thought...that maybe he never really left crossed her mind - that he sat and watched as she was brought to the brink just to make sure she behaved herself. That inkling made her moan into the sheets despite herself; the action embarrassing when the Arishok did little but grunt in annoyance at the noise. To imagine the Arishok as voyeuristic was in itself a kink that made her want to chuckle - the idea of him stroking himself to a mage like herself being taken care of was just too much.

For awhile she lay there - naked and bound - breathing in the scent of the tangy sheets as she waited silently for what was to come. The idea of the Arishok having witnessed her being pleasured by another Qunari never seemed to leave her as the darkness heightened her senses. Hawke felt shame mixed with the burn between her thighs; such a guilty and distasteful pleasure to crave the touch of the beast that kept her as nothing more than an animal...an animal he gave a treat to every now and then (and like a dumb animal she was growing needy of that treat).

Hesitantly she poked her tongue between the loose stitches of her mouth, tasting the copper of them as a light layer of nervous sweat built up along her lower back.

Thankfully - and not a moment too soon - she heard his shaking steps leave for the door; open it and then there was nothing for a moment or so before another pair of steps grew closer to her.

With her face hidden in the bed she smiled; needing that release so badly that she lifted her rear slightly and cooed. A part of her still felt humiliated by her imprisonment...by the lesser creature she'd been brought down to, but this was all she had, and damned if Hawke wasn't a woman who knew where her priorities were. Escape could be better planed after the Ashaad's fingers and tongue had worked their own brand of magic on her.

A excited jolt of mana traveled down her spine as the bed sank between her feet, and that expected touch of a hot hand still made her jump against the bed. Without her sight everything felt, smelt and sounded stronger. The dragging touch along the curve of her bottom made a soft noise. She could smell salt and musk already...just as a thickly-sharp finger slipped deeply inside her cleft without pretense. The intrusion was quick and smooth, making her squash her nose into the bed painfully on a pathetic gasp.

Hawke sucked in a breath as the digit thrust up and curved to avoid nicking her with that dangerous edge of his claw. On a shaky sigh she let her body relax; enjoying the tendrils of pleasure that ran up her body as the Qunari added a second threatening finger. She'd been stretched by his size enough that the added finger didn't hurt as much as it had at the start...only made her curl her lower back needfully. The horned-beasts sure knew how to break in a woman...and in the worst ways. Already she enjoyed this - rarely finding the sense to hate the man behind her for his effect on her (after all, he was only doing as he was told). Instead of letting that brief moment of resentment take hold she moaned her appreciation as his other hand plucked her stomach in his grip; moving fingers down slowly until they found the button that had her skin sparking like struck flint. A heavy...and...familiar growl had her holding in the magic that seeped from her pores in a moment of worry.

Had that sounded...like her Ashaad, or someone a little more like...

A hot bite on her shoulder made her gasp; ripping her thoughts and suspicions away as her lower body was lifted unceremoniously in the air. Hawke was ready...even if a part of her tickled that something wasn't quite right. The sudden need of fulfillment ruined any want for investigation. The Ashaad spread her hurriedly with unsteady fingers before she was suddenly stretched as she'd been the first time.

"Ah-hahh!", the bedspread muffled her, but in that moment she knew this wasn't the Ashaad...and the voice that followed the painful intrusion made the guts in her belly tighten, despite how tense the length inside of her already made her.

"Does this satisfy those thoughts, Saarebas Hawke?", his voice was hot in her ear; his body equally so along her back...and the burn increased when he pulled out of her, "Is this what the Bas you failed to protect think of you? Do they wish to imagine you at my every whim, every need and demand?"

Hawke sobbed as he thrust roughly back inside her, stretching her; and not in only a painful way. The pleasure if possible was worse than the discomfort of his size or even his words. How could he have known she'd started entertaining such ideas...unless a part of him had them as well...?

Suddenly - with the motions pushing him deeper inside her - he unbound her wrists in impatient jerks. The Arishok grasped her hip, keeping a hand on her shoulder to keep her down as he warned (almost gently), "If you attempt escape I will repeat this in front of them all...do you understand me, Saarebas? They will watch you cry out for more, as you prove them right what they've thought all along; that you enjoy the role I have given you...more than you should."

Magic burned under the pads of her fingers, but she curled them into the sheets as he began a horribly slow, deep and purposeful rhythm. Every slip of their flesh seemed more steady than the last, as if he took to this act as he did every other; with precision and dangerous calm. His voice had seemed as even as it had when he'd spoken to the Sten just earlier. A part of her - even as his pace changed in speed - wondered if the Qunari guarding the Keep knew what was happening right now. Did they know their Arishok was buried deep inside his Saarebas right now? - a mage? Would the Arishok choke her if she screamed as she craved.

A sneer graced her lips as he tangled the hand from her shoulder into her hair, ripping it of it's wet bun and tugging her body into a uncomfortable bend as he sunk their bodies together. A brief flash of discomfort overrode the pleasure, but soon it ebbed and his thrusts made her grunt; throat stretched by his grip and unable to keep back the sound his movements made. Each impalement was like a hot brand; marking her and feeding her tensions and wants.

As long as she acted as though she hated him she could get through this. Hawke wasn't about to allow her guilty fantasies to show themselves, even if he already knew what they were; was giving them to her right now. At least she could keep up the lie; give herself some false dignity even as she held back the wave of mana, as he used her body to make his point.

The distant feeling of her release was dreaded above all. The knowledge that her body would welcome his intrusion with open arms made her body burn further. Her hatred would be felt soon enough...maybe she wouldn't use this moment to escape today, but eventually she'd get her revenge.

When she came the Arishok was expecting it. His pace slowed and his hips smacked eagerly against her rear in rough slaps until she cried hoarsely into the bunched sheets around her face. Tears burned in her eyes at the humiliation of the sweet noises she gave him. Before she could come down from her high her body was flipped like a child's; body pressed back into the bed and face grasped firmly between two large hands. Still the Arishok filled and unfilled her; thrusting as deeply as her human body could allow him and still...still it didn't seem enough for him. A few noises from him she could hear vibrating in her head. His thick thumbs traced her cheeks bones almost appreciatly (as if he relished the thought of rutting with something so volatile) as he pounded into her. The fingers that curled around her head - she could recall them teasing her sex when she hadn't yet realized it was him...

Suddenly the light blinded her - her blindfold was pushed up by his thumbs and there he was...his face staring down at her. The sight of his ruthless expression - wrinkled with concentration and stress as his lips lifted; showing his sharp teeth - was too much to bear. His eyes were dark yet bright, hateful yet grateful - but soon all she saw was red.

The magic crackled around her skin - between their bodies - as fire grew and licked along her arms.

The Arishok didn't seemed phased by the magic breaking free from her body - in fact the corner of his mouth lifted as her breasts rocked back and forth against his quickening pace. The sight seemed to have spurred him on, and that recollection only grew the roaring flames; burning the sheets and catching fire to the blindfold around her head.

A deep seeded hatred turned into a manic need to grovel against him with an unbridled appetite. The magic turned her feral with need; and whether that be a need for death or satisfaction in other ways she couldn't care.

With out chagrin she thrust back against him, wrapping her thighs against his waist to push him backwards; needing to ride out the throngs of mana that warped her veins like ripping currents. The Arishok didn't budge against her, but ripped her into his red stripped chest with a savage growl that over powered her own as she grappled his horns while he thrust upwards without mercy. Her eyes found his; glaring as she yanked his horns with his thrusts as he bore his own gaze into hers.

The heat scorched her own flesh - so how he withstood it she couldn't fathom, but the hot pain and the stretched ecstasy between her legs was so good she couldn't care if they both burned to death in this position. Hawke - for the first time - allowed the fade to come inside, take over her for just the barest second as a quick and dangerous explosion of white fire flooded the room - it was now that she came with the added feel of the Arishok's seed heating her insides. His teeth pierced the skin of her collar bone as he grunted out his own release; hips still churning against her own in jagged drawls that hopefully left him as breathless as it did her.

She'd been too far gone to feel his teeth pull from her torn skin, but she heard his voice as clearly as anything before, "You will bend only to me...Hawke. I am your Arvaarad...you are my Saarebas, and I will purge you of your needs. No one else."

Perhaps escape could wait, she thought as her body was tossed back on the bed and the thickness she'd grown accustom to slid from within her. Upon inspection - the room was blasted with coverings of soot and burned fabric; the bed was still warm and her skin still pink and raw.

"Was it you all along?", she question - her lips sore at the seams from moaning and gasping; eyes on him now that she'd already been forced to see his face as he took her.

"No.", he stated as she watched him tuck his still erect length inside his pants. "...but it will be from now on."

After that the rumors grew and then waned effectively - as if something had happened to quell the people's thoughts. Kirkwall remained under the Qunari, even after the months went by. No longer did Serah Hawke stand beside the Arishok in her stone mask, but with bare eyes watching intently on those that came by. Her chains still seemed to weigh her down as her feet kept their stance, but she'd been given her sight back and no one dared to make comments as she stared upon the ones who looked back.

If escape was still coursing through the young mage's mind - no one knew...for Serah Hawke stood her ground day in and day out...and yet there was always a lilt to the corner of her mouth as if something big were brewing behind that still expression. No doubt the Arishok had not broken her yet. 


End file.
